


I Hope I Think of Bike Riding When I’m Dying

by Cacoethic



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Just a lot of sadness, Reflecting on things one cannot have, Spoilers for November and December
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 22:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10908732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cacoethic/pseuds/Cacoethic
Summary: “Look at that, Akira riding a bike on his own. No dad!”





	I Hope I Think of Bike Riding When I’m Dying

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t like when other people apologize for their work, so I’ll try not to apologize for mine. But I do think this could be better, I just needed to get it out of me. Just some sadness for you, as if there wasn’t enough already in this game.

“Is it ok if I stay here today?” as they’re all preparing to leave, Akechi’s query silences the room. “I’m just not… feeling that well,” he plasters on a fake smile that unsurprisingly undermines his sentiment.

“Like… stay in Akira’s room? No fuckin’ way!” Ryuji expresses loud dissidence immediately. Haru looks uncomfortable, Makoto squares him up distrustfully. Morgana pulls Akira aside to whisper in his ear, no doubt a warning that Akechi will snoop through all his things if left unattended.

“We don’t go in Mementos without everyone present,” Ann finally speaks up. “It’s a rule we decided when it was just the four of us,” she gestures to herself, Ryuji, Morgana and Akira somewhat shyly. Akira, quiet and expressionless all the while, finally smiles.

“It’s okay,” he meets Akechi’s eyes with ease. “If you’re not feeling well, stay here. Boss is out today but I don’t think he’d mind if you helped yourself to the contents of the fridge downstairs. It’s practically all leftover curry though,” this statement he punctuates with a cheeky grin. Akechi fights the urge to return a soft smile of his own. “We shouldn’t be gone more than a few hours,” he continues to speak despite the now extremely loud protests of nearly everyone present. “Akechi doesn’t need to come to Mementos! It was never part of his involvement with us,” he explains over them, this time using his ‘leader’ voice. “So let’s get going.”

The rest of the gang heads downstairs but Akira lingers. He shows Akechi the (crappy) TV complete with a (shitty) DVD player and (ancient) game console, says he’ll be locking up for Boss’ sake and asks if its ok if he keeps the key. Akechi directs a pleasant smile and nod his way, promises he’ll ‘be good’ and even turns the TV on to convince Akira he has no ill intentions.

As soon as he hears the front door close, he chances a trip downstairs to make sure it’s well and truly locked and takes note of the bell that will alert him when someone comes in. Predictable as ever, he heads back upstairs and immediately begins snooping. Any weakness he can get on the Phantom Thieves or any hint that they’re hiding something from him will aid him in eliminating them.

Akira’s room isn’t _impersonal_ per se, nothing like Akechi’s spartan apartment in the city. No, Akira’s place at least has things on the wall (a Phantom Thieves poster of all things, charming if not stupid) alongside a few knickknacks spread out in the dusty space. He finds himself growing angry at the waste of the day, wishing he could’ve engineered an excuse to get his hands on Akira’s cellphone rather than simply the room he sleeps in, until something under the bed catch his eye. A laptop, old and beat up like the rest of the shit in this musty attic, lies not quite hidden beneath the pathetic excuse for a bed Akira must be barely able to sleep in.

Delightfully, there’s no password, but the thrill of finding what could be an important tool fades as he sees how impersonal the laptop is. There are school assignments in the ‘Documents’ folder and nothing else: he goes through each assignment quickly just to make sure. Akira is surprisingly smart, though nowhere near as intelligent as himself. The fact that he talked down the others and their extremely reasonable concerns, allowing Akechi to infiltrate the very hideout of the Phantom Thieves, proves this more than any piece of homework could. The ‘Pictures’ folder has a few cat memes saved but no pictures of himself or his friends. The hopelessness sets in again, combined with some small satisfaction that maybe Kurusu is a little lonelier than he lets on.

It’s only when he reaches ‘Videos’ that he finds something interesting. There are several files, titled ‘001.mkv’ through ‘007.mkv’: he starts with 001, naturally. Retrieving his earphones from his coat pocket, he lets out a nervous breath before firing it up. The video is three minutes and change long, featuring a young boy that is unmistakably Akira standing next to a tiny red bicycle. His signature black, tousled hair is much shorter but the shape and colour of his eyes have been burned into Akechi’s mind so severely he’s certain the boy there is his rival as a child. He can’t be more than six years old, staring off into space as a deep voice gives him instructions.

“This is Akira on his first day of learning to ride a two-wheeler. You can do it!” the man says from off-screen, egging on the small child who looks more lost than anything. At the last bit of goading, however, he gets a look of determination in his eyes that reminds Akechi of a pint-sized Joker: too cocky for his own good. He puts one leg over the bike haphazardly, leaving the other foot on the ground for a minute. At first he appears a bit stuck, though he doesn’t look to the cameraman for instructions.

“Remember how I taught you?” the man offers gently. This is almost certainly Akira’s father, though he hasn’t shown himself yet. Goro finds himself leaning in, as if getting closer to the screen will make the audio louder or the voice behind the camera appear. Akira nods slowly, kicks his other foot off the ground and pedals forward a few beats before careening off to the side dangerously. The man filming doesn’t move to stop or help him, and Akira picks himself up immediately after the inevitable crash.

“You alright?” the man asks with minimal concern. Akira nods, staring at a scratch on his hand but making no comment. “Get back up, you can do it!”

Rather than cry, despite the angry red scratch still evident on his tiny right hand, he once again grasps the handle bars and jumps up on the bike. As if all he needed was his father’s confidence to carry on. “Look at that, Akira riding a bike _on his own_. No dad!”

Akechi doesn’t realize he is crying until after he realizes, with a start, that Akira is in the room with him. He should’ve heard the bell but the blasted headphones must’ve blocked the noise out. Akira entered his periphery, nearly had a hand on his shoulder before Akechi bolted away from the screen and practically threw Akira’s laptop to the floor.

“That’s the only one I have,” Akira smiles faintly, though his expression quickly fades as he notices the silent tears making their way down Akechi’s face. Caught completely offguard and unable to prepare a fake smile, his face is the picture of misery. When Akira sits down on the makeshift bed next to him and tentatively puts an arm around his shoulder, he’s shocked to see Akechi bury himself in the other boy’s chest. He’s not making any noise, but his shoulders shake unmistakably and there’s a dampness forming below Akira’s neck.

Suddenly the other boy bolts upright and looks around frantically. “The others,” he chokes out between silent sobs. “Is everyone else here?” Akira guides Akechi back to himself, missing the warmth on his body and wanting more than anything for Akechi to open up to him. He’s known for some time of the boy’s deceit and plan to kill him, but maybe it’s not too late. There’s no denying he’s interested in Akechi as well: it feels as though a thread is connecting the pair of them, fated to meet when they did. Fated, maybe, to kill or be killed by one another. But he’s never been a big believer in fate.

“There’s no one here but you and I,” Akira soothes him, watching the tension dissipate from his shoulders in response. Emboldened by Akechi’s reaction, he goes so far as to begin rubbing the other boy’s back. “We didn’t go to Mementos. Nobody trusted you alone in here,” he speaks over a haughty chuckle from Akechi. “But I told them I’d deal with you alone. I didn’t think I’d find you like… this.”

He saw the video Akechi was watching. He didn’t have anything from his parents in his room save for a few home videos, back from when his dad got a video camera and was obsessed with recording every moment of their lives. There weren’t a lot of moments to record after that one. Birthdays, Akira holding his first test with a perfect score (there weren’t many to follow, but none of them warranted recording anyway), a video of Akira on the swings at the park with a friend. These videos comforted him when he thought of the callous way his parents had kicked him out once he was labelled a criminal. Sure, he was supposed to be on probation, but they could’ve called or written or done literally anything. Things changed when he hit high school and his parents began working more, so he didn’t miss them all that much anyway. Things were always changing.

Lost in thought, Akira hadn’t noticed Akechi slowly regaining composure and extracting himself from his embrace. “It’s nothing,” he clears his throat and looks away in the most obvious way possible. Akira reaches out, touches his face, hoping to guide The Detective Prince’s gaze back towards him. It’s fruitless. With neither of them speaking, Akechi stands and dusts himself off before heading towards the stairs.

Knowing this is possibly his last chance to connect, Akira rises to his feet hastily and gets a hold of Akechi’s arm. “Wait,” his mind is working quickly but not quickly enough to hold the other boy’s attention. “Wait, Akechi, _Goro,_ ” the use of Akechi’s first name finally stops him in his tracks. He chances a glance back in Akira’s direction and searches his eyes for an explanation. Finding none, he shakes his head and removes Akira’s hand from his person. This time, Akira doesn’t stop him- what good would it do? If he doesn’t open up now, will he ever?

“See you next time,” Akechi wears a sad smile as he descends the stairs, leaving Akira utterly alone.

* * *

Akira doesn’t know if there was any hesitation in Akechi’s eyes when he shot the fake. He only knows, once his suicide is announced to the world, that he went through with the plan after all. He never told the rest of the group what he witnessed that day in the attic with Akechi, and makes no plans to despite this development. There’s something missing in Akechi that may be impossible to replace so late in life.

This hunch is confirmed in Akechi’s final hour, as he looks Akira right in the eyes and states (wishes?) “if only we’d met earlier.” The physical wall that emerges between them serves only as a visual reminder of the emotional wall Akira could never cross. As a fake cognitive version of himself aims a gun at his head, Akechi thinks of the bicycle video. He imagines Akira’s father, with the same voice and intonation, saying “You can do it Goro! Get back up!” and despite (or perhaps because of) the smile this gives him, his first genuine smile in ages, he makes no move to escape his fate. At least in the end, he can protect a son whose father loves him very much.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came from, you guessed it, “I Hope I Think of Bike Riding When I’m Dying” by Neat Beats. Give it a listen. As always, my writing is an excuse for me to air out my issues, so this piece is personal to me. Thanks for reading.


End file.
